


Blackwatch Days

by ssserif



Series: Overwatch [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Asexual Moira O'Deorain, Bisexual Female Character, Blackwatch Era, Childhood Trauma, Cocaine, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Morality, F/M, Flashbacks, Gang Violence, Gangs, I'm Bad At Summaries, Italian Mafia, Kidnapping, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Backstory, Moral Bankruptcy, Multiple Pairings, New York, Omnic Racism, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, Pilots, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Slow Burn, Violence, like really slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-02-08 12:53:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18623683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssserif/pseuds/ssserif
Summary: ❝ᴍʏ ᴘᴀsᴛ ɪs ᴀɴ ᴀʀᴍᴏᴜʀɪ ᴄᴀɴ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴏғғ,ɴᴏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇs ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀ ɪs ᴏᴠᴇʀ.❞Kassandra Reid; war veteran, combat medic, all-around good person. She's a goody-two-shoes if you will, yet, despite her efforts to be a good soldier, she finds herself running with the bad boys aka Blackwatch.





	1. ➸ 01. recruitment

[☺;☻]

 

Kassandra had signed up to the military as soon as she left university after studying Nursing. Her parents had been soldiers, her mother a field medic and her father a soldier and later commander, so it was only natural she picked up where they left off. It was two years since she had joined Overwatch or, more specifically, their nursing division. 

Military life was...  _Fatiguing_ , for lack of a better word. Field medic training was difficult, sixteen weeks of gruelling effort. Running for miles with heavy medical equipment strapped to her back and swimming through muddy water had done its fair share of damage to Kassandra's body in the form of sore muscles and a strained back but it did nothing to prepare against combat. 

She couldn't bear watching her allies slowly die in front of her eyes, sure, she was dexterous with a needle but there were some injuries that required urgent hospitalisation. In those cases, she was to comfort them until a helicopter or army van came, if a helicopter or van came. In typical warfare, she would have been protected by the Geneva Convention, but this wasn't war against humans, it was a war against Omnics, unfeeling, uncaring Omnics ready to gun down a whole civilian population because a wire went lose. 

The only thing that lay between her and heavy machine gun fire was a shield. Often times, she'd have to be hauled away from the person she was treating due to the shield wearing down. Luckily, Omnics couldn't recognise whether a person was alive or not, so as long as they lay as still as possible, they wouldn't be targeted. The slightest movement, however, and a person would be gunned down without a moment's notice. It happened more times than it should of, and it haunted Kassandra through consciousness and sleep.

 

[☺;☻]

 

❝ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴀʀ ɪs ᴀ sʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍ ᴏғ ᴍᴀɴ's ғᴀɪʟᴜʀᴇ ᴀs ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟ.❞

❝ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴀʀ ɪs ᴀ sʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍ ᴏғ ᴍᴀɴ's ғᴀɪʟᴜʀᴇ ᴀs ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟ.❞

❝ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴀʀ ɪs ᴀ sʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍ ᴏғ ᴍᴀɴ's ғᴀɪʟᴜʀᴇ ᴀs ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟ.❞

 

[☺;☻]

 

Kassandra got visitors often, what with being a popular and skilled medic and there being so many disagreements between soldiers, so it came as no surprise when she heard a loud knock at the door. 

"Come in," She said, already reaching for her med-kit. 

When Jesse McCree walked in, BAMF belt and all, with no discernible injuries, she took her hand away from the med-kit. A single eyebrow raise from her was enough for him to open up. 

"Heya, Kass," He began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Oh, shit, and here I had a whole speech planned out. Ok, uh, right, Commander Morrison wants to see you in his office."

"Since when do you take commands from Commander Morrison?" Kass asked, eyebrow raised even further. 

"Goddamit, ya weren't s'pposed to ask so many questions." The cowboy grumbled before continuing. "Commander Ga-, sorry, Reyes'll be there too. He's who I got the order from, missy."

"Why woul-" Kass began only to stop herself short. As much as she enjoyed teasing the hell out of the cowboy, she had a feeling this was important if both Commanders were going to be present. "Forget it, I'll go." 

Jesse breathed a welcome sigh of relief, then stepped back, holding the door open with his arm. Kassandra stepped past him to the threshold, then feigned a curtsy, "Thank you, lord McCree." 

"My pleasure, lady Kassandra." Kass laughed as she walked past him. He closed the door behind them, before escorting them down the corridor to the Commander's room. "What's this about? Did he tell you?"

"Nah, he was just like tell Kassandra to come to Morrison's room and then walked off." Jesse chuckled. "I don't think they'd discharge you, you're one of the best medics we have, be a shame to waste ya. Unless," the cowboy turned to Kass. "Unless, you did somethin' that would force them to discharge you." 

"Fear not, noble Jesse, for I am only a lowly medic, never would I betray the Hippocratic Oath to commit a heinous act." Kassandra put a hand over her mouth in mock surprise. 

"Come on, Kass," Jesse said. "You know I don't have a clue about any of them words you said."

Kass paused, "One of the words was Jesse..."

"Anywho," The cowboy quickly changed the subject, "we're here."

Kassandra stopped walking, turning to face the steel door with the words 'Commander Morrison' on a gold plaque. Both her and Jesse looked at each other, unsure of who should knock first, before Kassandra eventually lifted her hand. She knocked three times, trying to keep her hand from shaking. Why would they want her? Are they going to dismiss her? Did she do something wrong? Was she not good enough?

"Come in," Now it was her turn to be let into a room. She tried to put on a confident face as the steel door slid open. She kept her eyes to the floor, preferring  _not_  to maintain eye contact. Kass stepped forward and was surprised when Jesse did so too. 

"Commander Reyes, do I have permission to stay?" Kass silently prayed that the answer was yes, it was better to be in a room with someone she knew and could have a laugh with than by herself. Thank God she was on Xanax, or she would have been on the verge of a panic attack.

"Seeing as this partially involves you, yes." Kass smiled slightly, happy that, at the very least, they could be awkward together. "Sit, both of you." 

There were two chairs in front of them, Kass took the one on the right, Jesse the one on the left. 

"Coffee, biscuits?" Commander Morrison asked. 

"Coffee, please." Jesse said.

"Just a biscuit." Kass said, keeping her gaze lowered. Caffeine made her heart race, sugar was good for her lightheadedness. Commander Morrison rose from his chair, walking over to a tray filled with biscuits and four cups of coffee. _Seems like they were expecting McCree_.

He walked back and placed it on the table. Jesse grabbed a mug of coffee first. It took Kass a few seconds to muster up the courage to grab a biscuit.  _Do I look fat eating this_? _Do they think I'm fat_? She shook the mind from her head,  _one biscuit isn't gonna make you a diabetic_ , she thought.   
  
She took a bite, a much smaller bite than she would if she were alone or surrounded by her friends, chewed then swallowed. 

"Do you know why you two are here?" Commander Morrison asked. Kass shook her head, Jesse answered with a 'no'. "No? Good. Before I start, we need to set a ground rule. Everything we say is confined to this room, I can't afford any information getting out to the press. Do you both understand?"

Both nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. Morrison continued, "Kassandra," she raised her head. "You may have heard rumours of Blackwatch, of course, we try to keep everything contained, but you can't stop everything from getting out." She'd heard of Blackwatch, the enigmatic branch of Overwatch, or so the rumours said.   
  
"Our covert stealth operations team, designed for infiltration and spy-work." Kassandra nodded.  _What was he getting at_? "Several officers have brought to light your aptitude for what you do. But I've also heard that you put yourself at risk to save your allies."  
  
Kass raised a hand slowly, "Sir, if I may have permission to speak." Morrison nodded. "I swore an oath to protect and serve to the best of my ability." 

"And I respect that, which is why I'm transferring you to Blackwatch." It all hit her like a ton of bricks and she was suddenly left feeling incredibly stupid. Of course,  _why would he mention Blackwatch and me and not be implying a transfer_?  _For shits and giggles_? "I think it's the best of both worlds, you won't be on the frontline, you'll still be able to respect the Hippocratic Oath whilst not risking your life to do it." 

Kass took another bite of the biscuit. 

"Of course, this is only a proposal, I couldn't force you off the frontlines unless I was beyond a reasonable doubt that your health was at risk." He pushed a piece of paper towards you along with a pen. "It's your decision whether you want to join or not."  
  
She skimmed over the contract, the details were clear: swearing to fulfil the Hippocratic Oath to the best of her ability; to not knowingly go out of her way to harm her allies; and to abide by the Geneva Conventions. She picked up the pen with her right hand, she thought. Blackwatch would be easier, she wouldn't have to watch her friends die right in front of her; she wouldn't have to hide behind a shield to heal them; she wouldn't have to deal with Omnics.

 _Really, the decision had already been made_.

She pressed the fountain pen to the space provided, carefully confirming her signature: Kassandra Reid.

 

[☺;☻]


	2. ➸ 02. come fly with me

 

[☺;☻]

 

"Your cooperation is appreciated, Agent." Morrison offered a small smile and a nod. "Your first mission will be around a week or two from now, when you get properly settled in." The Strike Commander turned to Jesse, who was still trying to sip his coffee even though it kept burning his lips. "McCree, here, will show you around the common rooms. You two are dismissed." 

"Can I take the coffee with me?" Jesse asked, finally taking the mug away from his mouth long enough to get a few words out. 

"Fine," Commander Morrison said. "Just bring it back to the kitchens when you're done." 

With that, Kassandra and Jesse rose from their seats and walked out of the room, Jesse holding the door open for her. It wasn't until she left that she realized she still had the cookie between her index and middle finger. She took a bite out of it. 

"Damn, look's like I finally found someone who can shut you up." Jesse chuckled, still holding his coffee. "'Oh, Mr. Strike Commander, may I  _please_  have permission to speak?'." He mocked playfully, drawing out the 'e' in please,  _pleeeeeeeeease_. 

"Shut up, you know they can probably hear you, right?" McCree gulped at my remark. 

[☺;☻] 

 

❝ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅᴀʀᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ɢʀᴀsᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏʀɴ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏsᴇ❞

❝ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅᴀʀᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ɢʀᴀsᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏʀɴ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏsᴇ❞

❝ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅᴀʀᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ɢʀᴀsᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏʀɴ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏsᴇ❞

 

[☺;☻] 

 

The Blackwatch common room was much better than she thought it would be, Kass had almost been expecting half-twisted mole people to jump out and swallow her whole, but, instead, she was greeted by... Was that Camilla? Yes, sitting in a corner, with a computer on her lap, typing away, was the woman Kass had quite literally bumped into a few months back. Maybe 'bumped' wasn't the right word for it, it was more like 'slammed'. In Kass' defence, she was carrying two boxes full of medical equipment, tourniquets; syringes; gauze; dissolvable stitches and the like, and could hardly see where she was going, being 5'2" hardly helped the matter. 

It was the classic cliche, only a tiny bit more painful. Camilla had apologized, offered a hand to pick up the things that spilt (which was pretty much everything) and, once done, introduced herself as Camilla Marìa De La Villano. The name was almost instantly recognizable as the youngest daughter to mob boss and former head of an Omnic manufacturing company, Archimede De La Villano, or, at least the youngest daughter that he had with his wife. Strange that his daughter would join the organization famous for fighting back against them, it definitely raised eyebrows when it got out to the press. Kass could still remember the newspaper headlines: 

 

❝ɪɴғᴀᴍᴏᴜs ᴍᴏʙ ʙᴏssᴇs' ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ᴊᴏɪɴs ᴛʜᴇ ғɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜɴᴄʜ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴏᴡɴ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ.❞  

                                                                           

 

 

The newspapers had painted her out to be some backstabbing, scheming traitor, ready to jump ship if the grass seemed greener on the other side, but the Camilla she had gone out to have coffee with (after she'd asked Kass to) was so sweet and kind with a slight smudge of sarcasm, not at all caring about her family past. 

When Kass came back to her senses, Jesse was walking into the common room, expecting her to follow. Kassandra paused for a brief minute before following, both of them sat down on a dark leather couch. She looked around, the common room was mostly empty, understandable since it was around 5:00 am, except for Camilla, Moira, who was scrolling through a tablet, most likely analysing medical results, various other people who she didn't know and, of course, Jesse and her.

"Wanna take some time to get settl'd in? Want me to show ya 'round?" Jesse led her to a couch and she sat down, looking around some more. The room was not so different from the Overwatch common room, save for the colour scheme – which was black and red instead of white and orange.

"Since when do you want to help?" Kass smiled slightly, running a hand through her white, dyed hair. She probably should go back to her natural black, running around on stealth missions with bright bone-white hair. She almost laughed at the thought. 

He set his cup of coffee down, "Hey, hey, now, Commander Reyes wants me to treat you with the utmost kindness, make ya feel welcome." Jesse explained, fumbling around in his pockets for something. "Oh, shit, my cigs." He cast his head over his shoulder at a woman sitting just behind them. Kass swore she recognized her from somewhere... "Ronnie, got any cigars?"

"I got some nicotine gum for you, if you want that."

Ronnie... Ronnie... Where had she seen her before? Was Ronnie short for Veronica? She'd known a Veronica before, back in Catholic secondary school. This couldn't be the same Veronica. The Veronica she went to school had hoped to become an aviator, to take to the skies in a plane of her own. Unless she'd abandoned that dream... No, she was overreacting, it wasn't  _that_  Veronica, it's a common name after all. 

"Come on, Veronica, ya can't give me that shit. Everyone knows that I'm the king of moderation."

"Sure you are, McCree."

Didn't Overwatch offer a flight program? Lena Oxton had been a pilot, hadn't she? Kass highly doubted that Blackwatch had an aviator program, though. Unless she had been transferred as Kass had just been.

"You haven't introduced me yet, Jesse." Kass butted in, finally coming to her senses. "Perhaps I should report you to the Commander, I don't feel very welcome here." The combat medic playfully teased, eyebrows raised, a smug look on her face.

"Don't tell me I'm stuck with you forever," Jesse grumbled. "This is Miss Kassandra Reid, our new combat medic. As much as she's annoying, she's really good at patchin' people up." The cowboy pointed his arms in the general direction of Kass. "This is Miss Veronica Ashworth, she used to fly planes until... Well, y'know, what happened to Lena, don't ya?" Veronica grimaced at the mention of the aviator program. _Old wounds, huh_? "After that, Overwatch decided to draft her to Blackwatch and now here she is. Happy, Kass?" 

 _Veronica Ashworth_? The same Veronica Ashworth she had gone to Catholic school with? Kass barely recognized her under the wild mane of golden hair (where it had previously been ginger and neatly combed) and the dark tinted aviator glasses that she wore.

"Veronica?" Kass asked, eyebrows furrowed slightly, secretly hoping it was her.

"Well, _fuck me_ , it's really you, Kass. I  _knew_  I saw your name on a file." Veronica smirked her signature simper from school, the one she would give when she was lightly reprimanded by one of the nuns. "Not many people can rock white," She said, a tanned finger combing through Kass' dyed hair. "But you, you can rock anything I reckon."

"Same for you," Kass motioned to Veronica's hair. "Did you dye it?"

Veronica shrugged, "Kinda. It just changed from red to strawberry blonde after secondary, so I said 'fuck it', might as well go full blonde."

"Sounds like you." Kassandra shared Veronica's smirk. 

"Oh, you don't say?" 

"Oh, I do say."

 

 [☺;☻] 

 

❝ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅᴀʀᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ɢʀᴀsᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏʀɴ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏsᴇ❞

❝ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅᴀʀᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ɢʀᴀsᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏʀɴ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏsᴇ❞

❝ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅᴀʀᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ɢʀᴀsᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏʀɴ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏsᴇ❞

 

 [☺;☻] 

 

It had been exactly a month since Kass had joined Blackwatch, a month full of paperwork, training in basic espionage and hand-to-hand combat and catching up with Veronica and Camilla. Just as the Strike Commander had said, her first mission was placed onto her desk. She was now to be part of an eight-man strike team, including Commander Reyes, Moira, McCree, Camilla and Veronica. The first mission she was 'shadowing', not getting too involved, only hanging around in the backline. 

"Got everything?" Veronica walked over to Kass, who was kneeling on the floor, biting her nails whilst double-checking everything she had packed. The former aviatrix ran a hand through Kass' hair, which she had now dyed back to her natural black. "Don't stress out so much, 'kay? I'll go fetch whatever you need." 

Her job as a combat medic was possibly the hardest to pack for, she needed to make sure she didn't run out of supplies during the week they'd be gone for and that her syringes, needles and med-kits were all sterilized multiple times over and kept in air-tight bags that were sterilized as well. 

"No, I think I'm good," Kass said, using Veronica's hand to pull herself up. She zipped up her suitcase, pulling up the handle-grip. "Besides, I'm pretty sure Moira's handling the main healing." 

"Yeah, but what if she gets injured or separated?" Veronica followed Kass out the common room. Whilst they were walking, Kass shot her a look. "Okay, okay, I know that's the last thing you want to worry 'bout."

"Glad you're self-aware," Kass said as they walked down the stairs down to where the dropship was dormant. "Where's your stuff?" 

"I packed it and put in on the ship this morning, its just cleaner, don't have to bother with everyone." The aviator's British accent pierced through years of living in America as she shrugged softly. 

"Didn't take you for the anti-social type,"

Finally, they made it down to the launching pad, noticing that Moira and Commander Reyes were already there, talking. As the two women approached, Veronica muttered something that Kassandra just barely caught. 

"I wish I could still fly."

"You still can," Kassandra said, saluting her commander before boarding the ship to put her suitcase in the overhead bin, next to Veronica's. 

"How do I? Just hop into the cockpit, turn the ignition on, rev up the engine, take off?" Veronica sat down on one of the cushioned chairs. "Thanks to the Oxton incident, no-one can fly a plane unless it's a dropship and the Strike Commander personally selected you. And he already fucking hates me." 

"Why?"

"A little while after the Oxton speel, I broke protocol." Veronica cast her eyes to the floor. "A lot of people, even if they weren't pilots, were upset by it. I mean, how could they not be? Flying was their passion and their job and then, just because of one mistake by a girl in a whole separate division, everyone gets punished. Then Morrison has the fucking  _balls_  to give us a choice, an ultimatum, we either get drafted or lose our jobs. Some people had too much pride to choose the draft and  _now_  they can't provide for their families."

"That's awful," Were people's jobs so expendable? To the point where they could just lose it at the flick of a wrist for one mishap? It reminded her of the countless infantry men she'd seen die right in front of her, the ones she was helpless to save. ' _Just move on_ ,' they told Kass.  _How_  was she supposed to move on, when they  _constantly_  haunted her every time she went to sleep?  _How_  was she supposed to move on, when  _she_  was the reason they wouldn't get to go back to their families? 

"I just couldn't let it happen, y'know? There are just so many people with families all over the world, who want to go home to them as a war hero, with a bunch of  _medals_  and  _honours_  and  _certificates_." Veronica motioned to nowhere in particular, her eyes a steely grey. "What were they supposed to do? Come home and tell their parents, their wife, their husband, their kids that they were so  _disposable_  that they could just be thrown away and reinstated just like that." Veronica snapped her fingers. 

After a sigh, she continued. "So, I got together with a few people, organized a protest, I was surprised by how many people were with us, I thought we were going to be labelled as crazy people and shut down. But- but we weren't." 

Her voice was filled with a sort-of breathy erraticness. She took a deep breath, then carried on. "Just participating in it was grounds for dismissal, nevermind proposing and organizing the whole thing, but it was so  _thrilling_ , like flying again."

The pilot laughed, wiping the corners of her eyes were tears were beginning to form. "When Morrison found out it was me who organized the whole thing, he went nuts. ' _Are you aware of how many men we've had to waste to stop your temper tantrum_?'." She put on her best impression of the blond Commander. 

"I was so surprised when he gave me a second chance, I thought he'd be like ' _get the fuck out of my sight_ ', but he said I had potential and so slapped a Blackwatch draft form into my hands and,  _boom_ , I'm here. Shame he couldn't do that for the other couple hundreds." The last few words were laced with poison, her lips curling upwards slightly, the corner of her nose twitching.

"Damn," Was all Kassandra could say. She'd never seen Veronica so pent up except for when the nuns sent her to isolation for a day and even then that was mild compared to the hatred in her voice now. 

"Well, that was a unique side of me I just discovered." Veronica looked at her hand and grimaced, as if repulsed by the mere sight of herself. "How very interesting."

Rubbing Veronica's back softly, Kass asked the woman, "You okay?"

Veronica nodded, wiping away the last of her tears. "I must look right pathetic."

"Come on, you're not  _that_  bad!" Kass put a hand on Veronica's shoulder. "Come on, gimme a hug." No-one said anything, the two only drew each other into a short-lived yet caring embrace. Once Kass pulled away, Veronica was looking better, sniffling, yes, but smiling through it. 

"Come fly with me..."

 

 [☺;☻] 


	3. ➸ 03. borgia

 

[☺;☻]

 

When everyone had arrived and placed their luggage in the overhead bin, the designated pilot started up to the engine. Veronica cast an indignant glare to the flight deck, then rolled her eyes as she slumped down into her chair. Kass leaned towards her, resting her head on her shoulder. Though she couldn't see it, Kassandra was almost certain that Veronica was smiling. 

Kass ended up drifting off to sleep with the sweet fragrance of rose water and jasmine filling her nostrils. Her dreams - unusually - weren't of soldiers screaming and writhing as they struggled to stay conscious, but of when she was still in medical school, blissfully unaware of the horrors of war. Of course, she hadn't waltzed into the battlefield expecting rose petals and perfume, but she'd never expected the helplessness she felt. 

She tried to banish the thought, trying to think about something else - anything else, but all the images her mind allowed to be projected were the cold eyes and ashen skin of corpses strewn across the battlefield. Men who had once been starry-eyed as she had been, men who hoped to come home to their families a hero. Men whose families would only get a pre-made letter home, bluntly announcing them as having been killed in action...

 

[☺;☻]

 

"We're here!" Kass woke up with a start at Veronica's rather loud voice in her air. She sat up slowly before shooting a playful glare at Veronica. " _Sorry_." Veronica apologized, yet kept a smirk on her face, Kass shook her head. "I'll get our stuff."

And with that, Veronica stood up, unlocked the overhead compartment and pulled out their luggage - an alabaster-white briefcase for Veronica and a matte black quilted suitcase for Kassandra. One by one, the team began to file out of the dropship, Kass and Veronica first. Immediately, she was met with a forest of palm trees and arching river valleys. Up ahead, following the river, was a grand hotel with Roman arches and gilded marble.

Kass could hardly contain her awe as she looked around, Veronica was no better. Both women looked over at each other, sharing a smile. Veronica raised a hand to her eyes, to shield herself from the blazing sun. According to the mission file, they would be staying at the Hotel Cay. Leonardo Mancini, a relatively high-ranking mafia thug with connections to various gangs - ranging from little more than petty criminals to full-blown mobsters. He'd been holed up in the Hotel Cay for a while now, the hotel owners seemingly protecting him.   
  
Overwatch had decided against a siege of the hotel, instead settling for a divide-and-conquer, stealth operation. Kassandra and Veronica would be at the front entrance if Leonardo managed to escape. Camilla would be stationed on a roof facing Leonardo's apartment and another woman named Chiara would be on the roof overlooking the hotel in general. McCree and Moira would be stationed right outside his door whilst Commander Reyes and Genji snuck into his room.

It was overkill, Camilla as lone sniper could have gotten the job done, but with a high priority target such as this, Blackwatch couldn't afford to screw it up - partially why they put Kass and Veronica on the back burner. Even with such a small role to play, Kass' heart was thumping, on the battlefield, if you fucked up you could rely on your battalion to pick up your slack, this not too much. 

However, it seemed like she was the only one stressing out, everyone else was talking, Camilla was even laughing at something Chiara was saying. Why is everyone so relaxed? Kass shook the thought from her head,  _begone thought_ , she said to herself. Turning to Veronica, Kass started speaking, hoping to blend in. 

"I'm gonna need a drink after this," Kass rubbed her temples, slowly. As much as everyone played it down, she knew if she failed this mission, she'd most likely be drafted back onto the front lines to waste away. The stationing of Chiara overlooking the hotel wasn't an afterthought, it was to make sure eyes were on Kassandra and Veronica.  _Blackwatch didn't trust her_. 

"Maybe one during this," Veronica mused, twirling her hair whilst batting her eyes. Kass raised an eyebrow at her. "Remember when Rya used to do that?"

"Rya?"

"Don't tell me you forgot her, she was that girl from secondary that kept getting us in trouble with the nuns. She always called me 'ginger minger'." Veronica explained, Kass furrowed her eyebrows for a second then let out a drawn-out 'o' as if she just had an epiphany. 

"Oh, yeah, and she was the reason why the nuns always came on the bus, right?" Kass rolled her eyes. "Ugh, she was horrible." 

"Tell me about it, sis."

 

[☺;☻]

 

 

❝sᴇ ɢʟɪ ᴡᴏᴍɪɴɪ sᴀᴘᴇssɪɴᴏ ʟᴇ ʀᴀɢɪᴏɴɪ ᴅᴇʟʟᴀ ᴘᴀᴜʀᴀ ᴍɪᴀ ᴄᴀʙɪʀ ᴘᴏᴛʀᴇʙʙᴇʀᴏ ɪʟ ᴍɪᴏ ᴅᴏʟᴏʀ.❞

❝sᴇ ɢʟɪ ᴡᴏᴍɪɴɪ sᴀᴘᴇssɪɴᴏ ʟᴇ ʀᴀɢɪᴏɴɪ ᴅᴇʟʟᴀ ᴘᴀᴜʀᴀ ᴍɪᴀ ᴄᴀʙɪʀ ᴘᴏᴛʀᴇʙʙᴇʀᴏ ɪʟ ᴍɪᴏ ᴅᴏʟᴏʀ.❞

❝sᴇ ɢʟɪ ᴡᴏᴍɪɴɪ sᴀᴘᴇssɪɴᴏ ʟᴇ ʀᴀɢɪᴏɴɪ ᴅᴇʟʟᴀ ᴘᴀᴜʀᴀ ᴍɪᴀ ᴄᴀʙɪʀ ᴘᴏᴛʀᴇʙʙᴇʀᴏ ɪʟ ᴍɪᴏ ᴅᴏʟᴏʀ.❞

 

[☺;☻]

 

They entered a storage warehouse secured by Blackwatch at eleven to twelve pm. Various footlockers littered the floor, all labelled with the agent they belonged to. Kass tiptoed across to the one with her name,  _Kassandra Reid_ , emblazoned upon it. Inside was a wireless earpiece, a 9mm handgun, a business card with the name of the woman she would be acting as this evening and a purse full of cash and a credit card. Kass unzipped her suitcase containing an evening dress, made of silk and sequin, some velveteen gloves and a pair of open-toe heels. She bundled all the items up into her arms, then scurried off to an adjoining backroom to change. 

The dress fit her like a glove and the gloves slipped right on, but she struggled to walk in the heels.  _Ugh_ , she sighed, glancing over to Veronica who'd entered the room only a few seconds after she had. The blonde seemed to be having better luck than Kass, twirling around without a care in the world. Kass tried to steady her gait, as she walked out to see how the others were doing. 

Once they were all ready, they took their necessary positions. Kass tottered into the Hotel Cay, Veronica sashaying behind her, flanked by Jesse McCree and Moira. They signed in without issue, under the codenames Carmen Santiago for Kass and Amber Lee for Veronica, then took their seats at the bar, communicating to the rest of the group that they were ready. 

_Thus, Operation Borgia began._

 

[☺;☻]


	4. ➸ 04. borgia II

[☺;☻] 

 

Almost immediately as they entered the strangely empty hotel, Veronica pulled Kass by the arm to the bar manned by an omnic. It was strange to see an omnic in such an establishment. Normally, patrons would throw food at them, spit on them, even lob drinks at them to get them to short circuit, yet this one looked pristine – even down to the blonde wig combed into a neat 40's updo. Maybe it was due to the sparse clientele, apart from the omnic, there was no-one else here but Kass and Veronica.

It was unnerving to say the least; staring into the bleak, sky-blue eyes of the omnic and the garish, red lipstick that had been painted onto the robotic frame. The veneer of humanity was sheer, easily broken by the metallic chrome the omnic was made up of.

"Would you like to place an order, miss?" The omnic asked as she finished mopping up a spill on the mahogany counter, snapping Kass out of her reverie. "We serve both drinks and food."

"Two glasses of rosé, please. Put it on my tab, last name's Lee." From her purse, Veronica drew out a faux credit card, then handed it to the bartender. With a quick scan on the inverse side of the card, the omnic announced a tab was open and handed it back to Veronica.

 _The perks of having a robot bartender_ , Kass mused, looking around the empty bar.  _Where is everyone_?

It took only a few minutes before the omnic came back with two wine glasses full of pink, bubbly liquid. Taking the wine glass in her hand, Veronica took a sip, savouring the fruity flavour on her lips. Kass stared over at her friend before her eyes flickered over to the corridor that led to the target's room.

The fact that a man could be getting murdered as they drank was harrowing. What was she supposed to do? Sit and twiddle her thumbs whilst trying to drown out the conflicting thoughts? Finding momentary solace in the bubbly alcohol, Kass took a curious sip, enjoying the fruity aftertaste. She had never liked alcohol and she hoped she never did, but,  _damn_ , did it do wonders to her nerves.

She wasn't even remotely tipsy nor was she a lightweight, yet she felt so drowsy. Casting a look over at Veronica, Kass noticed that she was moving to get up, her hand rubbing a temple. Veronica stared at Kass wide-eyed for a second, staggered forward, then dropped.

The thud barely registered in Kass' mind, too lulled by the spiked rosé. On two shaky feet, Kass stood, dropping to her knees. A dull thump resounded and resounded in her head, then she felt a pneumatic feeling in her head.  _What the hell_ , she thought before dropping into the cold embrace of unconsciousness as well.

 

[☺;☻] 

 

❝ɪ ᴀᴛᴇ ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ... ɪᴛ ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ.❞ 

❝ɪ ᴀᴛᴇ ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ... ɪᴛ ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ.❞ 

❝ɪ ᴀᴛᴇ ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ... ɪᴛ ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ.❞ 

 

[☺;☻] 

 

Kass awoke to the harsh flash of a fluorescent light. Her eyes squinted, trying to dim the light. Once that failed, Kass, on instinct, turned her head to the side, trying to evade the blinding light, her eyes straining against the darkness surrounding the light. She quickly found that her legs were bolted to the metallic frame of a hospital bed though her arms, strangely, remained unbound.

" _Ooooh_ , lookie here," A feminine voice cooed. "They actually managed to bag me a shawty that wasn't a complete mess. This is gonna be so fun. Oh, hang on, lemme get the light for ya. Can't have my patients going blind on me, now can I?"

The sound of a crank twisting lingered in the air, grating against Kass' ear. It took only a few seconds for the light to fade to a dull amber glow. Without the distracting light, Kass could clearly see the enigmatic woman's face.

Two glimmering pools of honey-brown eyes stared at Kass, pupils dilated and flickering rapidly around. Her curly hair, black as sin, was tied in a bun by a thin ribbon - neat and out of her face. She wore a small smile on her lipstick-stained lips, though it did nothing to quell Kass' nerves. 

"W-who are you?" Was all Kass could strain out through sore vocal cords and the mounting fear that clutched her heart. She struggled against the chains on her legs, trying to squirm away from her possible assailant.

"Oh, right, I forgot to introduce myself," The woman stated, her smile morphing into a self-righteous simper. She pulled up her glove on her left hand, releasing it with a sickly 'snap' that resounded through the room. "I know what you're tryna pull, shawty. And I'm not giving you my real name. You can call me Doctor like everyone else does."

"Just doctor?" Kass asked, cocking an eyebrow - all fear drained from her body at the slightly comedic nickname.

"Yes, just doctor, shawty. Now hush before I shove a gag in your mouth." The 'good doctor' spat before hobbling off to a nearby table.  _Something must be wrong with her leg_ , Kass thought as she sat up. She could use that to her advantage, if she could find a way out of her leg restraints.

"What are you doing now?" Kass asked, trying to see what the Doctor was fiddling with but the doctor's surprisingly tall frame blocked her vision.

"Shut it, shawty, what did I tell you 'bout speaking?" Kass rolled her eyes before slumping down on her 'bed'. A sigh came from the Doctor's direction, then she spoke again. "If you must know, I'm preparing a special formula just for you."

"What am I, a child?" Kass asked, snorting at the sardonic, saccharine tone of the Doctor's voice.

"You're lucky I don't inject you with Hepatitis, shawty." The Doctor didn't turn around at all, instead fiddling with what looked to be a syringe.

Despite her bravado, Kass openly shuddered at the thought of being injected with some enigmatic 'formula' by a less-than-legal doctor. Various illnesses ran through her head; HIV, Ebola, Sepsis, all that could have been contained in that single syringe.

She had no clue where Veronica was. What if she was already dead? What about her brother – Reggie – who was all the way in England? Kass hadn't seen him for two years now and she'd most likely never see him again because of this 'doctor' - if she was even qualified at all. Her heart was gripped in anger, she felt herself boiling underneath her swarthy skin, almost shaking.

Whatever happened to the Hippocratic Oath? Do no harm?

However, sadness overtook her anger. Tears bubbled on the corner of her eyes and, although she tried to blink it away, it streamed down her face. She sniffled silently, reaching up to wipe away the tears. Her heart thrummed like an out-of-tune violin, though she shook the fear away, or at least tried to.

All that she wanted to do, all that she wanted to see would be robbed in an instant. And for what? So that some morally bankrupt doctor could use her corpse as some guinea pig?

She clenched her trembling left hand in her similarly shaking right, trying to still it.  _You're not going to die, Kass_. _If I've survived war, I can survive this psycho_. 

Her words were supposed to bolster her confidence, but she couldn't help but feel as if it were a thinly veiled façade.

 _She wasn't strong, she wasn't confident, she was just lying to herself_.

Kass' internal monologue was disrupted when the Doctor turned around, a syringe in her hand, and an awfully smug grin spread across her lips, "Ready for your shot, shawty?"

 

[☺;☻] 

 

❝ɪ ᴀᴛᴇ ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ... ɪᴛ ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ.❞ 

❝ɪ ᴀᴛᴇ ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ... ɪᴛ ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ.❞ 

❝ɪ ᴀᴛᴇ ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ... ɪᴛ ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ.❞ 

 

[☺;☻] 

 

 


	5. ➸ 05. caged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassandra and Veronica try to survive, whilst Blackwatch falls apart.

[☺;☻]

 

Veronica awoke in a cold, dark room, with an incessant thumping in her head. She tried to get up but found that two chains cuffed to her ankles prevented her from doing so. Furrowing her eyebrows (as she was still rebounding from the shock of the situation), she looked down, finding that similar handcuffs were attached tightly to her wrist - almost cutting off the circulation to her hands, leaving them pale and numb.

She thrashed in her metal restraints, trying desperately to find purchase. Finding none, her eyes erratically scanned the room for a tool, though her abductor seemed to have meticulously picked her cell clean of anything that could possibly aid her. Veronica closed her eyes, took a deep sigh in, then released. 

Her lungs were burning and every breath she took was shaky and forced. Rather reluctantly, through glassy eyes, she peered out of her prison. The cell facing hers was empty, although she could very clearly see a brown, dried substance splattered on both the wall and the floor.  _Blood_ , she thought, grimacing at the word. 

On instinct, she backed away, her chain rustling at the sudden movement. The scuffling of leather boots sounded down the hallway - Veronica pressed her back against the stone wall behind her, hoping to somehow retreat back into the cobble. This was it, she was going to die - here in some unknown place. This was how her story would end, pathetically. 

Her grey eyes glazed over in fear, her mind inundated with various memories from her past. She closed her eyes, trying to remember them. 

The time her step-father taught her how to ride a bike, the time she met Kass, the time she boarded her first plane, the time she almost got shot down by an enemy aircraft. 

When she opened her eyes, a figure stood before her. Cold, calculating blue eyes bored into Veronica's every being, staring her down. A surgical mask covered the shadowy figure's nose and mouth, making it quite clear that this 'person' was some sort of doctor. From the neck down, the figure wore an unflattering lab coat complete with boots and trousers.

"We were supposed to euthanize you." 

 _Euthanize_ , the word pounded through her head. Were they expecting to put her down like some rabid dog? Her sense of pride thrummed inside of her - the primitive human pride that trumped all sense of fear in a person, that made the adrenalin rush through their veins like a drug. 

"But you'll have a better use alive."

"What do you want?" Veronica spat, grey eyes narrowing. Her heart beat so fast she thought she was having a heart attack. It was as if the room turned a degree colder and her skin prickled at the sensation. The figure, however, seemed unfazed by the coldness or Veronica's temper, only staring at her with those same blue eyes. 

"Sienna!" The person yelled, ignoring Veronica's question. 

It took only a minute before soft footsteps could be heard from down the corridor and then it took another before a scrawny woman appeared beside the figure. This 'Sienna' was dressed in a mechanic's jumpsuit with a belt bulging with various keys attached to her hip. Her face was covered in what looked to be oil and soot, yet, underneath all the grime and filth, it was clear that she had a pretty face. 

"Yes, sir?" Sienna says, addressing the man while looking at Veronica out of the corner of her eye.

"Unlock the cage," The man stated simply.

Sienna fumbled with her keys for a second, searching for the right one. Once she found it, though, she quickly inserted the key in the lock and turned it, then, using one soot-covered hand pushed open the cage door. 

Veronica swallowed hard, her eyes darting between Sienna and the enigmatic man. Her back was pressed flat against the wall, her legs and arms were bound, the escape blocked by her captors. There was nowhere to go. In resignation, she pressed her head against the wall, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes.

"Fetch the equipment," The man turned to address Sienna, then turned back to the trembling Veronica. "Make sure you get the anaesthetic too."

It didn't take long for Sienna to turn on a heel and run off to carry out the order, leaving Veronica alone with the man.

 

[☺;☻]

❝ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴜᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏɢs ʙᴀʀᴋ, ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴇss ᴀ ʟɪᴏɴ ғᴇᴇʟs ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ.❞

❝ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴜᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏɢs ʙᴀʀᴋ, ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴇss ᴀ ʟɪᴏɴ ғᴇᴇʟs ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ.❞

❝ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴜᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏɢs ʙᴀʀᴋ, ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴇss ᴀ ʟɪᴏɴ ғᴇᴇʟs ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ.❞

[☺;☻]

 

Kassandra stared at the syringe with blank eyes. 

 _She was going to die_. 

She closed her eyes as she counted the footsteps encroaching upon her. Her last thought was to God, hoping -  _praying_  - that he would be listening.

 _One_ ,

God, forgive me. 

 _Two_ ,

God, help me.

 _Three_ ,

God, uphold me. 

 _Four_ ,

God, strengthen me.

 _Five_ ,

God, be with me.

 _Six_ , 

God, give me salvation.

 

Kassandra squeezed her eyes shut as the footsteps came to a halt. She feared death. Everyone did, the inevitable you tried to run from. Never had she expected that she would die like this, she wanted to die accomplished - she wanted to die a hero. Not like this. 

The doctor grasped Kassandra's unbound arm with her gloved ones. Kass refused to open her eyes. The tip of the syringe pricked her skin, drawing the faintest drop of blood. Kass bit her lip, plunging her teeth into the cracked flesh. 

"Stop!" Kass yelled, desperate to do anything to try and stall. It worked; the doctor paused for a second. Kass opened her eyes, staring into the doctors.

"What is it?"

"I'll go into anaphylactic shock!" Kass blurted out. It was a lie, of course, though the doctor seemed to buy it. The grip on her wrist loosened. Still, Kass didn't dare move. "I-I... I'm allergic to latex."

To emphasize her point, Kass scooted away from the doctor's rubber gloved hand, her face scrunching up in disgust. She prayed to God that her acting was convincing. There was a pause with the doctor staring at Kass with a look of both confusion and slight panic. 

"Shit," She muttered, dropping the syringe. With one last rather scathing look at Kass, she hobbled out the room, muttering curses and swears as she left.

Immediately as the sound of footsteps dissipated, Kass grabbed the syringe. For a moment, out of some morbid curiosity or something else, she stared at the clear liquid inside the syringe, trying to figure out what it might be. It must've been some strain of virus. Snapping back to reality, Kass threw the syringe with as much force as she could onto the floor. It clattered upon impact then shattered, glass breaking and liquid spilling onto the linoleum floor.

Adrenalin kept Kass wilful as she searched for some sort of button to deactivate her leg restraints. Finding none, she pulled at them - somehow hoping she'd pry the metal apart. Cold sweat ran down her forehead, her heart pounding so loud she could hear the thumping in her chest.

Her legs kicked at the restraints; her hands pried at them; her lips whispered silent prayers, but it was fruitless.

 

[☺;☻]

❝ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴜᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏɢs ʙᴀʀᴋ, ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴇss ᴀ ʟɪᴏɴ ғᴇᴇʟs ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ.❞

❝ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴜᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏɢs ʙᴀʀᴋ, ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴇss ᴀ ʟɪᴏɴ ғᴇᴇʟs ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ.❞

❝ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴜᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏɢs ʙᴀʀᴋ, ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴇss ᴀ ʟɪᴏɴ ғᴇᴇʟs ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ.❞

[☺;☻]

 

They were  _gone_. The mission was a failure, not only had their target - Leonardo Mancini - fled from the hotel room prior to the attempted assassination; but Kassandra and Veronica had gone missing. 

The omnic bartender yielded no answers, except that they had gotten up suddenly and walked out of the hotel. Chiara didn't believe her. Why would they suddenly walk out on a mission? Suspicion rose and whilst the rest of Blackwatch contacted the central HQ, she followed the omnic as she walked through the employees only back door - pistol hidden inside her boot. 

Immediately upon entry, the omnic grabbed something from the table and slid it into one of the desk's cabinets. Then the omnic hooked herself up to a switch, no doubt a recharging pod and hunched over, deactivating herself, her blue eyes fading to a blank grey. 

Once Chiara was sure the omnic would not reactivate, she crept up to the desk at the centre of the room, opening the cabinet the omnic had placed the object in. The drawer was empty save for a note scrawled in messy, spiky handwriting.

 

' _To Dias_ ,

 _The boss wants you to bag a couple of subjects this time, any gender will be fine but he says they need to be quite strong or well-built. He doesn't want bodybuilders, but try and get some that are in shape - no flobby bobbies. I'll be crashing at the hotel for a few weeks, just to keep the police off my back, make sure that you reserve a suite for me. - Leonardo_.'

 

Chiara bent down, grabbing her pistol from her boot. She aimed it at the omnic's head before pausing.  _No_ , she thought, the omnic would be more valuable  _without_  fried wires. 

Chiara approached the omnic, a grimace on her face.  _So pitiful,_  she thought. This was the  _thing_  that was affiliated with Leonardo Mancini? Chiara would've almost laughed if her teammates were not missing. She bent down and unplugged the charger connecting the omnic to the recharging pod.

The omnic almost immediately snapped her head up, grey eyes turning an icy blue. Before the artificial woman could do anything, Chiara pistol-whipped her to the temple. The omnic's artificial pupil constricted before she fell forward into the open arms of Chiara.

The metal made it harder for Chiara to hold her comfortably, yet she managed to haul the omnic into the bar by the scruff of her uniform. Walking backwards, Chiara dragged her back into the bar (which was cornered off by the Blackwatch team to prevent civilians from waltzing in). Chiara threw the omnic on the floor.

There was a moment of silence in the room where the five other members of Blackwatch simply stared at the omnic, then back at Chiara. 

Camilla, in particular, to a long, hard, judgemental gaze aimed at Chiara - her arms crossing over her chest.

Chiara said nothing, only handing Camilla the note she'd found. Camilla raised an eyebrow, though nevertheless took the note in hand - reading it aloud. 

"So, they're running some sort of human trafficking ring?" Commander Reyes said, his facial expression indistinguishable. 

"I think so, sir," Chiara said, face darkening at the implication. Two of their teammates had been kidnapped and were now possibly in a human trafficking operation that was being run out of some sketchy hotel. God only knows what was happening to them.

"Leonardo must've known that we were coming," Moira began, staring into one of the two champagne glasses on the table. "That's why he wasn't in his room - he was only staying here temporarily."

"Then that means there's a mole amongst us. Who could've told him?" Genji said, his eyes trained on Camilla. 

The atmosphere in the room turned a shade tenser and for a while no-one spoke, only glancing about at each other. Finally, their accusing gazes settled comfortably onto Camilla. How could they not be suspicious of her? 

 _She_  was the daughter of the most infamous man in Italy.  _She_  was the person who decided to join Overwatch - an organization steadfast in shutting down operations such as the one run by her father - for no other reason other than a moral compulsion to do so. And  _she_  was the only one in the room with a possible connection to Leonardo Mancini.

The Italian woman noticed this, her eyebrows furrowing deeply, "How could it be me? I already told you all, I had nothing to do with whatever my father did. He never even trusted me with anything."

"So what you're trying to say is that your father went into hiding and left his whole family behind, then you conveniently join us and now Mancini, who for all we know is working for your father, goes missing alongside our teammates?" Chiara asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Speak for yourself," Camilla spat, every word filled with violent animosity. "You're the mole. You seriously expect me to believe that a moll wants to fight for the greater good? Oh, you think, I don't know  _exactly_  what you were doing before you joined Overwatch?"

"I had no other choice, unlike you, you had every opportunity to run to the police and report what your father was doing, but  _no_. Do you think I wanted to be in a gang,  _shawty_? You don't know what it's like to have to go days without food or water, all you've ever had to do is a ring a bell and you get your caviar and champagne right at your door." Chiara sneered at Camilla, who like-mindedly, gave a sneer of your own. 

"Sort your issues later, we gotta find Kass and Veronica," McCree interjected, his arms crossing and a grimace replacing his usual smug expression. 

Somehow, the atmosphere in the room turned darker - everyone's eyes were on everyone else's, watching their every move. It was clear as daylight that no-one trusted each other anymore. 

 

[☺;☻]

 


	6. ➸ 06. erasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica and her captor have a debate about morality and Chiara thinks to the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( warnings; mentions of drug use (both consensual and forced), swearing, gangs and gang violence and child abuse. read at your own risk. )

[☺;☻]

 

Veronica waited for Sienna to come back, her body slumped, her mind buzzing. Her captor stood at the threshold between Cell 104 and the corridor. He stared at her for a moment then stepped into her cell, Veronica leaned her head up to stare at him. Angry tears blurred her vision, making her captor appear as smudges of colour. 

Her mouth opened to say something, then fell shut in defeat. To this, her captor chuckled, the sound baritone and deep.

"You'll do fine for the medical trial," The man muttered, though it did not escape Veronica's ears.  _What medical trial_?  _Were they going to test something on her_? "Just fine. Ever had an injection?"

Veronica couldn't help but snort. If only they knew that she was a secret agent and had had multiple blood transfers and doses during her time as an aviatrix. Her captor made no move, but Veronica swore she heard him chuckle again before shaking his head. 

"Fiesty," He said, tutting at the end. "Normally that would get you killed, but I suppose we need someone fierce for this program. Now, have you heard of the Super Soldier Program by any chance?"

The Super Soldier Program? Of course, she had heard of the Super Soldier Program. Both of her commanders that she had worked under had participated in it. How could she  _not_  have heard about it? 

"No? Yes? It doesn't matter, I wouldn't expect a civilian to know about it anyway,"  _Civilian_? Veronica almost laughed at that but kept herself in line. "We're going to make you into a soldier and that's all you need to know really."

"Why?" Veronica asked, staring at the man. Why? Why was she being turned into a soldier? Why was she kidnapped? Why did they take Kass too? Why was she was being held here?

"I suppose you want to know who you'll be fighting for, don't you? Archimede De La Villano  _needs_  troops, we  _find_  and  _produce_  troops. See? It's very mutually beneficial. Plus we get paid very handsomely." The man stated condescendingly, smoothing out his lab coat. 

"You're kidnapping people! What is this? Some kind of human trafficking ring? Do you know how many lives you're ruining and for what? Some cash?" Veronica snarled, her face turning red with burning anger. She could only imagine the number of families torn apart by this lunatic. Parents not knowing where their child had gone to; children orphaned; spouses abandoned. 

"What  _are_  you on about? We're making these people's lives better, we're  _improving_  them. They won't die without knowing what it's like to have a purpose. They'll die fighting for something greater than themselves. Humans by design are selfish and hedonistic, they only want what  _they_  want. Why squander life by only thinking of yourself, when you have the ability to be so charitable and altruistic?" The man cocked his head the side and Veronica swore he was smirking underneath his surgical mask.

"You're  _fucking_  delusional."

"Every great scientist has been called delusional. Even Jesus was, but they were correct in the long run and those who doubted them are forgotten to history." The 'scientist' stepped closer to Veronica. She snarled, trying to keep him away from her. "Delusion is a concept for the ignorant, no-one is delusional."

"Spoken like a true delusional maniac." Veronica sneered, upper lip curling up. 

A short laugh left the scientist's lips, his chest rising. "I like you. You're not like the others are you? You're a soldier, I can see it now. I'm glad you were the one that Dias chose and not another scared teenager."

" _Fuck_  you," Veronica said once more. Teenagers, they'd been kidnapping teenagers. Wrenching them from their families and turning them into sock puppets for Archimede De La Villano, some big-shot Italian mobster that had fled Italy with his tail between his legs.  _They couldn't even find grown adults_ , Veronica thought.

"Calm down. There's no need for harmful language, is there? Now, we can do this two ways; one, you cooperate and we have no further grievances or, two, you be a nuisance and we have to kill you. Which will it be?"

Veronica only stared at the man, her eyes cold.  _When I get out of here_ , _I'm going to kill you_ , she reminded herself.  _I'm going to kill you_.  _I'm going to kill you_.  _I'm going to kill you_. She wouldn't just kill him for abducting her, but also for kidnapping Kass and those countless other people, most of which would never be found again.

Yet now he wanted her to join him? Was she supposed to throw away her morality and ethics to become no-one? Did he honestly think she'd give up so easily?

She didn't want to die. She was only twenty-three, she had her whole life ahead of her. She didn't want to die, she couldn't die, she wouldn't die. Why did it have to be her? Why couldn't all the bad people of the world die?

She knew it: this would be her end - she could decide to become a nameless soldier or she could die in this cold, dark dungeon. She had to choose between an erasure of identity and death. 

And yet she chose erasure. 

 

[☺;☻]

❝ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴇʀᴀsᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʀᴀsᴜʀᴇ ᴡᴀs ғᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ. ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ.❞

❝ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴇʀᴀsᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʀᴀsᴜʀᴇ ᴡᴀs ғᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ. ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ.❞

❝ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴇʀᴀsᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʀᴀsᴜʀᴇ ᴡᴀs ғᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ. ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ.❞

[☺;☻]

 

The whirring of the dropship was all that could be heard as the remainder of Blackwatch boarded it. Solemn silence filled the ship as it took off. Chiara sat at the back of the ship, thinking about her past. 

She had been part of the Angels gang in the Bronx, New York. It wasn't like she had joined because she thought it was fun; she joined because she was  _starving_. Her parents, French-Lebanese immigrants, had been killed a few years prior by a rival gang - leaving Chiara alone. Chiara had been eating out of trash cans and scrounging restaurant leftovers when she was approached by Jay Boon.

 

(  **twelve years ago**  )

 

" _Thanks_ ,  _Mr Brown,_ " Chiara smiled as she waved the restaurant owner goodbye, a bag of leftover pasta and meatballs in her hand. Mr Brown had been giving her food in exchange for her to clean his restaurant for him. Chiara didn't care if it could be called child labour, at least it was better than going to sleep hungry.

She reached the alleyway that she had claimed as her own within five minutes and sat down on a stolen bench. The pasta tasted bland and the meatballs were obviously microwaved, but there was something about the meal that reminded Chiara of how her drug-addicted mother used to cook.

The then twelve-year-old child made no move to run when she heard footsteps approaching. At this time of day, it was pretty much a usual occurrence with people coming and going at their own leisure. 

" _How's it taste_?" A voice interrupted Chiara's eating, she turned her head in fear towards the tall frame of sixteen-year-old Jay Boon.

" _Who are you_?" Chiara asked, dropping the fork she was using for eating.  _Shit_ , she thought, bending down to pick it up.

" _Jay_ ,  _Jay Boon_.  _And who might you be_?"

" _None of your business, now fuck off_." Chiara glared, eyebrows furrowing, then went back to eating her pasta. Aggressiveness made bad people go away. Chiara had learnt that ever since her parents had died. She had no friends because of that, though she didn't mind. The Bronx kids were loud, angry and much too annoying.

" _Woah_ , _woah_ ,  _chill out there, shorty_. _I've been keeping an eye on you_."

" _Fucking creep_.  _GO AWAY_!" Chiara shouted, then shoved a large forkful of pasta into her mouth. This 'Jay Boon' was getting on her nerves. No-one had ever bothered to talk to her for more than a minute, yet this guy was persistent.

" _Hey_ , _I'm a lot of things_ ,  _but I ain't no creep_ , ' _kay_?  _I ain't gonna hurt you_ ,  _shorty_ ,  _I don't run that way_. _I just realized that you've been eating that crap everyday_.  _You know Old Man Brown's food are days old_ ,  _right_?" Jay said, observing Chiara as she sneered down at the plate of pasta. " _Yeah and he's got the balls to be making you work for that crap_.  _Look_ ,  _I know you don't like people_ ,  _but_ ,  _uh_ ,  _you should think about joining the Angels_."

Chiara raised an eyebrow, then cocked her head in a gesture for him to continue.

" _We got pretty good food_ ,  _not gonna lie and you don't gotta do anything_.  _It's a free meal basically_." Jay smirked down at Chiara. The young girl rolled her eyes.

" _Yeah right_ ,  _why'd you give a nobody like me a meal for free_?  _I'm not a stupid_   _fucker like you_." Chiara said, brushing off her dirt-stained dress as she stood up. 

" _Fine_ , _we won't give you it for free_ , _but you can join for free_. _I'll even train you myself or you can have the boss do it_ , _I don't really give a shit_.  _So, you in_?" Jay asked, crossing his arms whilst resting his weight on one leg. 

" _Okay_ ,  _but if you try anything then_   _I'll_ -  _I'll_ -  _I'll_ ,  _uh_ ,  _leave_." Chiara threatened through stutters. She had nothing to threaten him with, she didn't know how to fight, she didn't have any allies. Hell, she didn't even have a gun or a knife. She was just a naive child, why would they want her?

 

(  **present**  )

 

 _Jay_...  _Jay_...  _Je vais te_ _putain_ _Jay_... Chiara narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, her mind drifting off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated third birthday, Overwatch. Here's a nice little fucked up chapter for you all.
> 
> Oh, also, some romance is coming - I'm just trying to make sure it doesn't seem shoe-horned in. Ok, bye.


	7. ➸ 07. i loved someone once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

 

"I-I accept," Veronica cringed at the words; she wanted to be strong, she wanted to be the hero, but she wanted to live and she knew she couldn't have them both. So she chose to be the  _monster_.

 

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

 

❝I became everything that I didn't want to be.❞

❝I became everything that I didn't want to be.❞

❝I became everything that I didn't want to be.❞

 

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

 

The remainder of Blackwatch arrived back at the main HQ at 4:29 am. Chiara had slept the majority of the journey away and awoke to the soft whirring of the dormant dropship. Still weary despite her four-hour sleep, she opened her eyes and sat up, the bones in her back cracking at the sudden movement. She was the only person on the ship, the rest presumably outside.

She pushed herself up off of her chair, making her way off the airship slowly. The omnic Chiara had captured earlier was being led away by two, muscular guards whilst Commander Reyes and Morrison spoke. Chiara wasn't sure where the rest of Blackwatch had gone, but she assumed that they were inside the base.

As she walked past the two commanders, Reyes addressed her. "Paris," The use of her last name made her stop firmly in her tracks and turn to face the Blackwatch Commander. "Until further notice, you're relieved of your duties."

Chiara froze where she stood, her jaw clenching around nothing. "W-why?" She managed to choke out between a mixture of shock and anger.

This time it was Commander Morrison who spoke, "You're too close to the mission due to your past relations with the ' _Angels_ ' gang and the Italian Mafia. We can't risk you being affiliated with Leonardo Mancini or that omnic we captured, the risk of you sabotaging this mission is just too great to ignore. De La Villano will also be suspended so I'm sure you'll understand."

 _No. No_ ,  _I don't understand_. 

She wasn't even involved with that bastard, Leonardo Mancini. She'd never even heard of him until the mission dossier was dropped into her lap. And now she was supposed to just sit on her hands whilst everyone else rescued Kassandra and Veronica? 

"I-I understand," Chiara said, swallowing her pride. Her lips stung with the shadows of the words on her tongue and she bit back a volley of swears and curses. Turning on her heel, she walked off, muttering French swears as she did. 

Her hands balled into fists as she stormed to her room and the whole base must have sensed her anger because they cleared out of her way. That was until she bumped into one certain Lena Oxton. Normally, Chiara would have been able to entertain the energetic Brit, but today she was not in the mood.

"Fuck off, Lena," Chiara rolled her eyes, continuing her journey down the emptying hallways of the base, although  _the_  Lena Oxton was none deterred, zipping in front of her. 

"I can tell you're stressed, love," Lena said, greeting Chiara with a large, toothy smile and blocking her escape with her arms.  _Oh_ ,  _for fuck's sake_ , Chiara thought. 

"Well, no shit. Now can you move?" Chiara sneered, pushing past Tracer yet finding that the other woman's arm held firm, surprisingly. Her eyebrows twitched upwards, her lips pursing together and her eyes darkening by a shade. "Look, I'm really not in the mood to be fucking with you. Move."

 

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

 

❝Aggressiveness made bad people go away.❞

❝Aggressiveness made bad people go away.❞

❝Aggressiveness made bad people go away.❞

 

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

 

"Now, now, love." Tracer consoled, wrapping her arms around Chiara in a hug. In spite of her anger or perhaps because of it, Chiara felt herself melting into the hug. No-one had ever cared to hug her or even touch her when she was angry; not even Jay Boon. Chiara stood there in the embrace, not hugging back, only inhaling the warm smell of freshly ironed clothes and neroli that always seemed to linger around Lena. "That's it, now, you wanna tell me what's up?"

"No," Was Chiara's answer as she squirmed away from the hug, although Lena didn't let her go. "Mon Dieu, just let me go! I-I... Just go away, Lena, everyone's looking..."

"Doesn't matter, darling," Lena hummed, burrowing her face into Chiara's neck. "Come on, let's go to my room and you can get everything off your chest."

"I don't want to talk to you," Chiara muttered as she was dragged off to Tracer's room.

 

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

 

❝Out in the darkness, I saw an angel.❞

❝Out in the darkness, I saw an angel.❞

❝Out in the darkness, I saw an angel.❞

 

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

 

"Tell me what you really know, Camilla," Genji asked as he pointed his sword at Camilla's face. Camilla had both hands held up, her eyes staring at the glinting blade of the steel. Her jaw was clenched, her palms still sweaty from when the Japanese ninja had forced himself into her room and demanded her to tell him everything she knew about Leonardo Mancini.

"I already told you! I wasn't involved in my father's activities!" Camilla stared at the sword aimed at her head, a smirk gracing her face. "You do realize that this is highly illegal, right, Shimada? What will the media say when I tell them that some Yakuza thug's son forced himself inside my bedroom and pointed a sword at my face? The newspapers will go nuts." Camilla snarled, lifting her eyes to look the ninja into his bleak, red eyes. 

"Go ahead and tell them, but know that I'll only tell them about how you've been helping to hide your father from the police. What will they say then? Harbouring a fugitive, don't you think that warrants five years in prison? How old are you now? Twenty-five? It'd be a shame to turn thirty behind bars." The Shimada pressed the sword to Camilla's forehead.  _Cold_ , was the first thing she thought, although, Camilla knew that it would soon be warm with her blood if she didn't think quickly.

"I'll-" Camilla hesitated, but the sword moments away from impaling her brain made her swallow her pride. Even if she did attack the ninja, she'd only be able to stun him momentarily. She was adept in long-range combat, but hand-to-hand was a field she was completely incompetent in. "I'll tell you everything I know."

 

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

 

❝Aggressiveness made bad people go away.❞

❝Aggressiveness made bad people go away.❞

❝Aggressiveness made bad people go away.❞

 

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

 

"I loved a guy once," Chiara muttered, tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she spilt her heart out to Lena Oxton. Jay Boon, the man she swore she would tell no-one about. "He was much older than me, well, not really. He was only four years older, but it felt like a lot back then. Of course, he didn't love me back, at first I hated that, but now I'm thankful."

Chiara Paris stopped, looking down at her hands regretfully. Was she really telling Lena Oxton this? Was she really going to tell the chatterbox of Overwatch the secret that she had closely guarded for a decade? 

"Carry on, love. Tell me everything."

Chiara stopped, her mouth pursed tightly as Lena's words thrummed in her head again and again. Jay Boon was a secret; the thing she wanted to bury along with her past. When she had joined Overwatch, she gave no information about herself other than she was a part of the  _Angels_  gang. She kept her mouth shut when the Strike Commander tried to probe for more information and intended to keep her mouth shut even if it meant alienating everyone that she knew; it would be better than bringing up the confusion and pain that she felt years ago. 

"But, what if I don't want to tell you?" Chiara half sneered, half asked. It was just like what Jay Boon had done - forcing her to do things that she didn't want to do, taking away her control over what she could say or do. Wherever she went, she was exploited or chased away due to her past. Jay Boon had lied to her, the Angels had exploited her naivety, Overwatch had abused her loneliness to get her to join and now Lena Oxton was getting her to tell her everything.

She made her way to the door only to be blocked by Tracer zipping in front of her once more. This time, however, Chiara slammed her fist into her face and pushed her out of the way before stalking down the hallway.  _No matter what I do,_ she thought _, no matter how much I change, they'll only see me as some gun moll_.

Chiara balled her hands into fists, her gaze focused on the ornate linoleum flooring that covered the entirety of the Overwatch HQ. So focused on the patterns of the floor was she, that she didn't realize that she was walking straight into a certain cowboy. 

"Darl-. Oh, hi, Chiara," It was Jesse McCree, with his BAMF belt and all. Chiara pushed past him. The cowboy caught her by the waist and pulled her back to him. "Hey,  _hey_. There's no need for violence, little lady. How 'bout you come back here and talk to me?"

"I'm really not in the mood, McCree," 

"Oh hey, really not in the mood, I'm Jesse McCree."

Chiara laughed. She didn't know why; she'd heard the joke a dozen times by now, but she did. Then she cried, her shoulders tensing as tears streamed down by her face. She couldn't tell if she was crying due to happiness or due to sadness or a mixture of both. She felt as if she was a hormonal teen again, yet there was some strange joy that she felt. Yes, she was crying, yes she was upset, but it felt good to cry. She hadn't cried in a long time; most of her frustrations were let out in the form of anger and violence. 

She felt bare, torn and exposed, yet it was unlike how she had felt before. Before, she felt like she would pour her heart out to someone she thought loved her only to have it eaten, chewed up and then spat out without a semblance of care. Yet now, she felt like McCree would try and cheer her up with one of his stupid jokes or that dumbass smile of his. He felt genuine like he wasn't trying to put up a facade to make her trust him. 

"Darling, don't cry. Uh, hold on, I've gotta joke to cheer you up. So, ahem, what do you call a pony with a cough? A little hoarse." Jesse said, letting out a little smile.

Chiara smiled slightly, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. It was a horrible joke, but she loved it. She stopped crying, momentarily forgetting about Jay Boon and Lena and the Angels and Kassandra Reid and Veronica Ashworth. All she was focusing on was that stupid,  _stupid_  joke and how he'd thought of it. 

"Oh, I've got another one. What do you do when you gotta save your horse's energy? Ride a cowboy! And, um, I don't have my SAMF belt on me, but I'm one sexy ass motherfucker. Eh, eh?" Jesse McCree winked at her, the smile on his face growing.

Chiara smacked his chest playfully, "You're such a scumbag."

Jesse chuckled, tipping his hat slightly. "I might be, but I got a trick to cheer any lil' darlin' up. You wanna wear my hat?"

Chiara stared up at McCree as he took off his cowboy hat. She'd never seen it without it and she'd heard it had been a gift from his mother as a child. Was he really giving it to her - even for just a little while? Why waste it on Chiara, the woman that everyone hated, the woman that couldn't be trusted? Her eyes watered, nobody had ever given her something nostalgic before. She had been given drugs, guns, booze and little meaningless trinkets, but never an item that was so  _cherished_  before.

"I-I... If it's okay with you-" Chiara was cut off by Jesse placing his hat gently on her head of dark hair. Chiara closed her eyes, feeling her eyelashes brush over the remnants of her tears. "Thank you, Jesse."

 

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

 

❝Out in the darkness, I saw an angel.❞

❝Out in the darkness, I saw an angel.❞

❝Out in the darkness, I saw an angel.❞

 

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

 

"My father told me nothing," Camilla said as she sipped on the Japanese tea that Genji had made her. "Because I was the least favourite child. There was Ginevra and Angelo and Gianna and then there was Lavergne. She was the favourite child, all I could hear was Lavergne this and Lavergne that. He told her everything because he always wanted her to become his heir and inherit everything and he wanted the rest of us to just... Fade away."

"I know the feeling," Genji muttered, tasting his own tea. 

"You do, don't you?" It was then that Camilla remembered Hanzo Shimada, the older brother of Genji Shimada, and reportedly the man who turned him into the half-man half-machine that was before Camilla. Genji looked to the floor at her comment. "I'm sorry."

"We're getting off topic," Genji snapped, motioning to the sword lying beside him.

"Sorry," Camilla took a swig, placed her cup down and continued. "So, um, before he went into hiding, I was walking around in the manor and I found Lavergne and father in his study. He was talking about leaving the country and leaving Lavergne to inherit his money."

"And yet you didn't tell anybody this?" 

"Shush," Camilla said, regretting it almost immediately. Thankfully, Genji didn't seem to be offended or, if he was, he didn't make a move. "She said she would meet with Antonio Bartalotti in Venice, to discuss how to smuggle father out of the country and to keep the police off of his back."

" _Antonio Bartalotti_..." Genji uttered, his eyebrows knitted together. "So your sister is collaborating with Talon?"

"Sadly," Camilla nodded her head. Despite saving her own life, she felt as if she had betrayed her own sister. Lavergne had grown up with her, she was her very own flesh and blood yet she would sell her out just to save her own skin.  _No_ , she thought, _Lavergne had a choice and I have my own_. 

"The Commander needs to know," Genji said, setting his tea down and standing. 

"Please," Camilla lifted her head to look him in those impassioned, red eyes. "Please, don't kill her."

The Shimada only stared at her, his lips pressed tightly together. Camilla De La Villano maintained eye contact, even though she felt like cowering back into her seat. Finally, Genji nodded, turned and left the room and Camilla was left once more alone and with an inner war brewing inside of her.

 

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

 

❝Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do.❞

❝Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do.❞

❝Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do.❞

 

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

 

Guilt. It was something that gripped the core of Gabriel's heart.  _They were under my protection_ , he thought. Kassandra and Veronica, kidnapped; Leonardo Mancini, the man he should've killed, missing; and now Camilla De La Villano's sister corroborating with Talon's Antonio Bartalotti, the man whom he had been tracking for months. 

"You shouldn't blame yourself," Came the motherly voice of Captain Ana Amari from beside him. It had been three days since they had gone missing and the Strike Commander had immediately set his men to the task of finding them. The whole of Overwatch was keeping the botched operation under wraps and, so far, the press hadn't gotten a hold of any information. Gabriel was thankful, the last thing he needed was the media hounding down Commander Morrison's neck and staggering the already delayed rescue mission. 

Gabriel only took a sip of his coffee, savouring the bitter taste of the coffee bean. An acquired taste, most certainly. He looked down into the dark pools of his mug, suddenly reminded of Kassandra Reid's eyes. He remembered seeing her eyes twinkle as she laughed with her teammates or smirked at something Veronica Ashworth had said. Then he thought of those same eyes, now staring up at him - dull and lifeless - as he looked at her rotting corpse. He shook his head.

"She was a good woman," Ana continued, taking a sip of her own drink, a herbal green tea. "Kassandra, I mean. Always offering to make me tea or help with the recruits. She taught me how to make this tea," Ana lifted the teacup. "And I taught her to use a gun."

Gabriel looked over at the Captain, noting her use of 'was'. 'Was' was for the missing, 'was' was for the dead, 'was' was for-

"Kassandra..." Ana said, mournfully. "I hope she's alive. She was a great nurse and a great protege. Always smiling, always looking out for everybody. It shouldn't have been her..."

"It shouldn't have been anybody," Gabriel interrupted, gripping his coffee mug tighter. He didn't care that it was burning his hands, he had more concerns than his evening coffee burning him slightly. He was a super-soldier, he could handle a little burn. "I shouldn't have let them on that mission."

"You couldn't have known-"

"I should've known! I'm their Commander and now they're dead somewhere because I let Leonardo Mancini get away. What will I tell their parents? That I sent their daughters out to die?"  

Ana paused, twirling her spoon in her teacup. She closed her eyes, sighed, then spoke once more. "Fareeha always wanted to be a soldier," Ana's voice was tearful with her Egyptian accent shining through even more now. "Kassandra reminds me so much of her, it's like looking through a mirror. As a friend, it hurts; as a mother, it kills me."

"My mother always told me the greatest sin is inaction," Gabriel muttered.

"Then, for their sakes, let's bring them home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shit's about to go down. so sorry this chapter's so late, I've rewritten it three different times and I'm honestly just tired of writing now.

**Author's Note:**

> I managed to port this from Wattpad to AO3, woo, me!


End file.
